Dog Tags
by theDOCStardis
Summary: Sherlock returns after three years and John isn't sure whether to hug him or punch him in the face.


Chapter 1

I miss you – JW

I miss you too. – SH [unset]

It's been three years now. Where are you? – JW

I'm close. I'm keeping you safe. – SH [unsent]

People still talk you know, - JW

Why wouldn't they? I am sending messages to a dead man. – JW

No, I'm alive. – SH [unsent]

Three years Sherlock, Three years, forty-one days and three hours. Yes, I have been counting. – JW

So have I. I snuck into the flat last week. – SH [unsent]

I still feel you here. – JW

I took your dog tags… - SH [unsent]

It's silly really. – JW

It's not silly. [Unknown number]

Who is this? – JW

A friend. [Unknown number]

I don't have friends… not anymore – JW

That's not true. [Unknown number]

If you were a friend, why don't I have your mobile number? – JW

I am keeping you safe. I have to change my number constantly. [Unknown number]

Then tell me who you are! – JW

I can't, John. [Unknown number]

So I'm supposed to believe you're somehow my friend yet you can't even tell me your name? – JW

Obviously. [Unknown number]

Not obvious to me… - JW

It never was. I'm sorry John. [Unknown number]

Why text me? I don't know who you are, you wont tell me… so what good is it to text me? – JW

It keeps you safe. [Unknown number]

Keeps me safe? You texting me keeps me safe? How? –JW

If this is Mycroft I swear to god I will kill you! I told you not to contact me! – JW

No, Mycroft respected my wishes not to contact you or kidnap you. [Unknown number]

Since when does Mycroft listen to anyone? – JW

When I had to end it all. [Unknown number]

End what all!? – JW

Meet me at the grave. See you in thirty minutes. [Unknown number]

What?! Why the hell would I meet a stranger there? I haven't gone there since… - JW

Since you asked for a miracle. [Unknown number]

Seriously… Who is this? Did Mycroft put you up to this? This isn't funny! – JW

I will kill the both of you! – JW

No, Mycroft did not put me up to this. Please don't kill me. I died already and I don't want to again. [Unknown number]

John stared very confused at his phone. Grabbing his pistol from the drawer he quickly texted back.

I'll be right there, but believe me; I will hurt you if this is a joke. – JW

He had no idea why he was going, maybe out of anger and maybe out of confusion. Maybe he missed the violence and mystery that once invaded his life and was hoping for more. Whatever it was he ran out and hailed a can ready to face whatever there was ahead.

Sherlock smiled as he pocketed his phone. He walked up to his grave and sat down in front of it. John would be there in a few minutes and he was afraid of what would happen. He just hoped he would understand.

John tossed the fair to the cabby and shut the door. He sighed looking at the entrance. Walking through he stared at his feet not wanting to make eye contact with the passing strangers. He hadn't been here in three years, forty-one days and four hours. Even without looking up John knew exactly where he was going. He stood about thirty feet away from the black tombstone, his eyes closed. His throat had tightened, he was having troubles breathing and he could feel the sting from salty tears. Why had he decided to come back?

Sherlock could hear the footsteps approaching and a smile was forming across his face. He stood to his feet and looked at John who had his eyes closed. He walked up to the man and stood there for a second. His eyes were still closed.

"John…"

It felt like a knife had gone through John's chest. He fell to his knees tears spilling over. He scrunched his eyes closed tighter from the pain. He let out a gasp. Now he was hearing voices. He sucked in, gasping for air. His fingers clung to the grass, his knuckles white.

"Sherlock…" John managed to utter. His whole body was convulsing, tears pudding in the grass. Sherlock knelt down on the grass next to John and pulled out the dog tags from his pocket. He placed them around John's neck and hugged the man.

"Open your eyes. I'm here John. "

The touch, was it real? Had he really just felt a cool chain around his neck? Was he really feeling arms around his shoulders? Reluctantly John opened his eyes and saw a figure in front of him. He was terrified to look up. He slowly let go of the grass and gingerly touched the shoes that were inches from his fingers. Surprise caught the doctor when they didn't instantly vanish. He jerked his hand back. He still was scarred to look up. Sherlock noticed John had opened his eyes. He didn't want to force the man to look at him. He watched him as he reached his hand to touch his shoes. Sherlock slowly stood, trying to coax John to look up.

"I'm alive,"

John slowly stood never once looking into the face of the man in front of him. He knew it was Sherlock, he knew that voice. There was a part of him that thought he may vanish if he looked up and he was not willing to risk that. John reached out and touched Sherlock's jacket, his fingers tracing the outline. His other hand was brought to cover his mouth as more tears poured down; He was still standing there, he hadn't vanished yet.

"I'm not going anywhere, John…" Sherlock wrapped his arms around John once more in a tight embrace. "Never again." John wrapped his arms around Sherlock, still gasping for breath and choking on tears. He placed a hand on the back of Sherlock's head as he buried his face in Sherlock's shoulder.

"Sherlock…" John said again, a little louder than the first time. Sherlock felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He felt them fall slowly down his face as he held John.

"John… look at me." John pulled back slowly, blinking to try and rid his blurred eyes of all those tears. Slowly Sherlock's face came into view, standing in front of him. John was still speechless. His fingers traced Sherlock's jaw, his cheekbones and ended on his chin; He was here, this was Sherlock. John's hand shook as it hovered above Sherlock's skin. A new emotion then took control of John, denial, fear and rage. He quickly jerked out of Sherlock's embrace putting distance between them. His hand remained outstretched, a single finger pointed in Sherlock's direction. His breathing quickened and his brow furrowed. So many thoughts raced through his head yet somehow he couldn't voice any of them.

"John, I'm sorry." Sherlock started to step towards John.

"No!" John said forcefully. Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks. "Stay right where you are." John's tone was harsh. It cut through Sherlock worse than anything he had felt in the past three years. "H-how… you were dead!" John stuttered.

"No," Sherlock said softly worried he would be scolded again.

"I saw you, I saw you jump, I saw your body…" John trailed off, tears cracking his voice. His hand covered his mouth again. "I saw your body, you were dead." John sobbed. John took a deep breath in and marched over to Sherlock getting within inches of his face. "How the hell do you explain that Sherlock?!" John yelled.

Sherlock paused looking around. People had started to stare.

"John, keep your voice down…"

"No! You don't get to tell me what to do!" John yelled.

"Alright, alright," Sherlock quickly responded trying to quiet the doctor. "Can I explain elsewhere? Somewhere more private?" He stared at the enraged man. John didn't say anything for a few moments before storming out of the cemetery. Sherlock was stunned, stuck in his spot watching John leave. It took him a moment to come back from what had happened before he chased after him. John was waiting at the curb, his arms crossed over his shoulders. Sherlock started to hail a cab till John swatted his hand down. Sherlock looked to him confused. Moments later a black car pulled in front of the curb and the driver got out and opened to door for them. John climbed in and Sherlock followed hesitantly.

The car ride was silent. Sherlock could see John was still angry.

"Can I ask where we are going?" Sherlock said quietly. John didn't respond. He was furious. How could he have done this to him? There was one more thing John wanted to know and he was determined to figure it out. They rode in silence until they reached a large house and the driver opened the door again. John got out quickly running up to the front doors. He stormed in and yelled loudly.

"Mycroft!" He shouted searching each room he came across. "Mycroft where are you!?" He yelled again.

"John?" Mycroft said coming out from down the hallway. "How lovely to see you, it's been…" John marched right up and shoved a finger in Mycroft's face.

"How long?!" John questioned sternly. Mycroft looked confused.

"How long what?" Mycroft asked. John let out a short laugh.

"You know exactly what! How long have you known he wasn't dead?!" He repeated placing his hands on his hips. Mycroft still had a look of confusion until he saw Sherlock walk through the door. His face went soft; a look of sadness enveloped him. He looked back down to John.

"I'm sorry, I would have told you, but it was for your own good." Sherlock had stopped just inside the door. John let out a short laugh again.

"Should have known you would have been involved." John muttered under his breath. "Thanks you lot for leaving me out of this!" John screamed. He then stormed off to the nearest couch he could find two doors down the hallway.

Sherlock sighed staring at his brother. Mycroft gave him a disapproved look.

"You couldn't have found a better way to tell him?" Mycroft said trying not to be overheard by John.

"He was bound to get mad any way I told him…" Sherlock said bypassing his brother and slipping into the room John had entered. He closed the door behind him. John was sitting on the couch his head in his hands, his fingers gripping at his hair.

"John…" Sherlock said hesitantly. He didn't respond. Sherlock walked over and sat down on the couch. John could feel him beside him. He couldn't look up. His emotions were running high; Anger mixed with relief, Depression and pain mixed. How could his friend have done this to him? After a few moments he loosened his grip on his hair and placed his hands on his knees. He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes closed.

"Explain," John said not moving at all. Sherlock thought for a moment where to start.

"I had to." He could see John tense as he said that. "I never wanted to hurt you John, I really didn't. If I hadn't jumped though… they would have killed you. I couldn't let that happen. You mean too much to me. It was so hard to do that to you, but I knew it was the best. I kept an eye on you though. I took out Moriarty's network just to make it safe for you." Sherlock paused. John had opened his eyes and looked up at Sherlock, calm. John took in the information. The burn of anger was subsiding, it was still there, just not as intense. He still didn't quiet understand but somehow he couldn't bring himself to question further. He sighed and let go of his rage completely. Tears started again. He collapsed, his forehead resting on Sherlock's shoulder.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, turning so that he could sit more comfortably.

"I'm sorry," He whispered again. John was still silent. Sherlock rest his cheek on John's head. Through the door Sherlock could see Mycroft peering in with a slight grin on his thin lips. Sherlock through him a threatening look to which Mycroft chuckled silently and walked out. "I'm here now," he said, holding John tight.

The boys took a silent cab ride back to their flat. John still wouldn't look at Sherlock. John got out of the cab quickly making Sherlock pay the driver. As he unlocked the door and walked in he could hear Mrs. Hudson.

"John?" She called.

"Mrs. Hudson, I…" He saw her cup crash to the floor a look of shock on her face. He turned around, Sherlock stood still in the doorframe. It was a moment before Mrs. Hudson moved. She slowly stepped towards Sherlock, her mouth open. In just a moment Mrs. Hudson's face scrunched in anger and she slapped Sherlock across the face, the sound deafening in the silence.

"Sherlock Holmes! How dare you!" There was a look of shock and horror across Sherlock's face. John started to giggle to himself. "How dare you do this to John! It's been like hell since you… well you know!" she scowled.

"I-I…" Sherlock stuttered unsure how to respond. He looked to John for help, who just shrugged with a smug look on his face. Sherlock looked back to the furious Mrs. Hudson.

"You should be ashamed of yourself!" She said raising her hand again. Sherlock flinched. Mrs. Hudson didn't strike again; instead she stormed off to her flat in a fit of curse words and things unrecognizable to John.

"You deserved that you know?" John said smiling. Sherlock still looked shocked. John just laughed and walked up the stairs to their flat. Sherlock snorted and followed him quickly; afraid Mrs. Hudson would come back for round two.

Sherlock entered their flat; it still looked the same as it had a couple months ago when he had snuck it to take John's dog tags. He took off his scarf and jacket and laid it absentmindedly on the couch. The last time he was in here he hadn't a lot of time, now he was taking in his old surroundings in time. John came out of the kitchen with a drink in hand.

"Isn't it a bit early in the day for a drink?" Sherlock remarked.

"My friend comes back from the dead after three long years and has me meet him at his grave, later to tell me he's been keeping an eye on me and his brother knew this whole time…" John took a long swig. "No, I think now is the perfect time for a drink." The doctor slumped down onto the couch. Sherlock slowly sat down across from him.

"Well," Sherlock said quietly as he looked at John, a drink in one hand and his head hanging back off the couch, his eyes closed.

"Well what?" he said without moving. Sherlock thought for a moment, not sure how to ask. "Yes." he said without Sherlock having uttered a word.

"How…" Sherlock started. John looked back up and snorted.

"You've come back from the dead, but obviously you haven't told many people cause the papers haven't shown, Detective back from the dead!" John said waving his hand across to motion a headline on a paper. "So now you've come back to the flat with me and are tiptoeing around asking if you can stay here again, afraid I may turn you down cause I'm still taking this all in." Sherlock smiled, he always knew how to surprise him. "I'm not the only one who can make their own conclusions." John threw back the rest of his drink and set the cup down on the table beside him.

"Thank you John," Sherlock said warmly. He just nodded.

"Well I don't know about you, but I've had enough of an exciting day that I think I'd rather just stay home in my pajamas all day and watch telly." John smirked grabbing the remote. Sherlock chuckled.

"Got a pair of sweats for me?" Sherlock asked. John smiled.

"Sure do!"

Sherlock looked over to John who had passed out on the couch. He smiled, fond of seeing the doctor so peaceful. He stood up quietly, turning off the telly. He grabbed a blanket off the back of the chair covering his sleeping friend.

"Sleep tight," Sherlock said laying a quick kiss on John's forehead. He looked up at the time. It was three. He wanted to make John something special. He looked around the kitchen but decided on something else knowing he was rubbish with food. Sherlock walked down stairs and knocked on Mrs. Hudson's door. "Mrs. Hudson?" Sherlock called. The door was open so he made his way in.

"Sherlock? Is that you dear?" He heard her call.

"Yes," He said standing awkwardly in her kitchen. She shuffled in, a bright smile on her face. She stopped and stared at Sherlock.  
"What is it dear?" She asked her hands held together in front of her.  
"Well, I wanted to make John dinner before he wakes up… but…"

"I'll help," She said already shuffling towards the fridge. "We all know you are rubbish with food anyway."

"How can I help?" Sherlock asked looking over to where Mrs. Hudson was gathering supplies.

"Can you get the potatoes out of the cupboard? We need to wash them."

"Sure," Sherlock responded quickly, rushing to get out the potatoes. They cooked together for a while, laughing and catching up. Sherlock enjoyed learning with Mrs. Hudson; he also enjoyed being next to her again. Mrs. Hudson got out her fine dishes and placed them neatly on a tray. He served up the food making sure everything looked perfect.

"Oh, I got one last thing for you dear," Mrs. Hudson said as she ran to her living room. She came back with a couple candles, some flowers and a lighter. "Have a good one," She smiled handing Sherlock the complete tray. How that woman saw through everything he would never understand, not many people got to him like that.

"Thank you Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock said softly leaning down to lay a quick kiss on her cheek. He smiled and walked back up stairs. John was still asleep on the couch as Sherlock tiptoed pass. He set down the tray and started dispersing the food. He lit the candles and then hid the lighter and tray. Sherlock sat back and admired their work, he was anxious for John to see it. He walked over to where John was asleep and laid a hand on his shoulder. "John," Sherlock said softly, gently rocking the doctor. "John, wake up." The groggy man slowly opened his eyes, rubbing them with his sweater-covered hand. He propped himself up on his elbows.

"How long have I been asleep?" John asked looking around the flat. He then started to sniff. "What is that I smell?" He looked towards the kitchen then back to Sherlock, a look of confusion on his face. "Did you cook?" Sherlock nodded.

"I wanted to do something special for you." He smiled.

"Right," John nodded. Sherlock stepped back to allow him some space. He stretched out, his arms reaching above his head. "Right," He repeated looking up at Sherlock.

"John, would you do me the honor of having dinner with me?" Sherlock asked holding out his hand, a giant grin on his face. John laughed silently and took his hand. He excitedly took John over to the kitchen table. John took in everything, the steak, the jacket potatoes, the cherry tarts and his eyes stopped on the lit candles and flowers.

"You did all of this for me?" John stared unbelieving.

"Of course," Sherlock beamed with pride.

"Who helped you, cause I doubt you did this alone…" John sat down at the table. Sherlock sat opposite him.

"Oh, don't spoil the mood!" Sherlock replied quickly. He poured a drink for John and sat the bottle back down on the table. He lifted his drink. "Here's to us, back together again!" Sherlock smiled. John grabbed his glass and raised it as well.

"To us," John grinned, clinking his glass with Sherlock's. They ate, talking happily like no time had passed between them at all. John's face got red more and more as the night progressed from drinks. By the time they had finished Sherlock started to clean up and protested when John tried to help.

"No, this is my treat for you!" Sherlock said stealing away the dishes from John; the doctor through his hands in the air.

"Alright, I won't help." Sherlock watched to make sure he didn't pick anything else up before turning to place the dishes in the sink. Sherlock turned on the water and started scrubbing. He heard him walk up beside him. "Thank you though," John smiled looking up and the taller man. Sherlock smiled.

"Of course," He went back to scrubbing, John didn't move. He then stood on his toes and laid a gentle kiss on Sherlock's cheek. "I mean it," He said before just walking back to the couch. Sherlock was frozen, he couldn't move. Had John really just kissed him on the cheek? Sherlock's face turned bright red. He tried to finish cleaning but John had gotten him all distracted, which was a new concept for Sherlock, usually nothing could make him lose focus. He then headed down stairs to return the dishes to Mrs. Hudson.

"How did it go Sherlock?" Mrs. Hudson asked, taking the tray away.

"Really good…" He said staring off into the distance. He hadn't noticed that Mrs. Hudson was staring at him.

"Something happened didn't it? You don't get this flustered for anything," She smiled. Sherlock quickly looked up to her snapping out of his daze.

"Hm, what?" he said trying to reconnect.

"Aw Sherlock, I'm glad things are going so well for you," She smiled. "Now get back up there with him!" she said shoving him out the door. Sherlock paused outside of her door for a moment to take it what she had just said before heading back up the stairs. He shut the door behind him and walked over to the couch. John stared up at him with a smile.

"All finished?" he asked before looking back to the telly.

"Yeah," Sherlock said quietly. He sighed and walked over to sit next to John. John was relatively calm, at least for what he had just done. He was surprised Sherlock was this silent about what had just happened. He wasn't even sure why he did it, it had all happened so quickly. Why had Sherlock had candles and flowers out for their dinner? Was Sherlock's absence bringing out feelings for the detective he had tried to suppress? John tried to ignore these nagging thoughts scared they would be reflected on his face and Sherlock would see. He picked up the remote and handed it to Sherlock.

"Would you like to choose…" John faded. Sherlock was staring at him, deep in thought. The intense gaze frightened him a bit. "Sherlock?" He muttered. Sherlock slowly leaned in towards him, lost deep in his head. Sherlock was inches from John's face when he closed his eyes. He followed, allowing his other senses to take over. He knew what was coming. He felt Sherlock's lips brush against his. A surge of intense butterflies flew up through his chest turning his face bright red. Sherlock released him for just a few moments; he could feel his lip trembling. His eyes fluttered open to stare into those piercing grey eyes. John then quickly dove back for more, this time being a little more forceful. He raised his hand up to grab the back of Sherlock's head, holding him close. He could feel Sherlock's hands start to hold onto his shoulders. The kiss deepened, intensifying and leaving John out of breath. After a few minutes the kiss slowed and Sherlock pulled away slowly. His face was red as well; light and wonder dancing through his eyes.

"Okay," Sherlock said barely audible. He sat back a little, taking his hands and resting them back on his lap. John still hadn't moved. Sherlock got the biggest grin on his face and quickly jumped up. He watched as Sherlock ran down stairs. John wasn't sure where he was going and somehow he was at a loss of words to be able to ask. He slowly stood and walked toward the front door when Sherlock but back in.

"I'm confused…" John muttered. "What's going on here?" He paused to look at Sherlock. "Why did you go down stairs?" He said looking behind Sherlock to see if he had missed something.

"That's not important John." Sherlock said calmly.

"Right," He said nodding, still trying to figure out what had just happened. He looked back to Sherlock. "Explain, please… cause I'm having a hard time keeping up." Sherlock sighed and walked over to John placing his hands on his shoulders.

"You know exactly what just happened…" Sherlock smiled placing another kiss on his cheek. Sherlock pulled back to see John looking him in the eyes. This time John was the first time to lean, pulling Sherlock in fast and hard. His fingers found their way through Sherlock's hair. Sherlock's hands found his waist and held tight, trying to get closer to him. John broke the kiss and stared hard at Sherlock.

"God dammit," John said in a gasp. "Three years Sherlock!" he had to stop and breath again. "My therapist wanted me to say it but I couldn't. Say what I couldn't while you were alive, but still couldn't after you were gone." Sherlock brought his hands up to caress his face.

"I know, its okay," Sherlock smiled. John pressed his forehead against the detectives.

"I care for you, Sherlock." John whispered. A warm feeling invaded Sherlock. All these years he had distanced himself from the doctor, caring was stupid, it was a disadvantage, but he couldn't help it with his doctor. He had longed for those words for the longest time.

"I know you do, John." Sherlock grinned.

A week had passed since Sherlock had come back. There were days when John still couldn't believe it. He set down the teacup next to Sherlock who was reading the morning paper.

"Tea is ready," John said leaning in for a quick kiss.

"Thank you," Sherlock said happy to receive John's affection. John sat across from Sherlock with his own cup. John just stared, watching Sherlock as he read. He heard a knock at the door but ignored it knowing Mrs. Hudson would grab that. He took another sip of tea before their door opened and Mrs. Hudson was standing there.

"Sherlock, your brother is here to see you." John rolled his eyes upset that Mycroft was deciding to pop by.

"What does he want?" John asked.

"Not sure, but I will find out." Sherlock growled. Sherlock marched down stairs after putting his dressing gown on. "What? I was busy," Sherlock barked. Mycroft rolled his eyes at his brother.

"I need to speak to you. It's important." He pronounced.

"You could have just texted Mycroft…" Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed.

"It's something I need to speak in person with you about." He narrowed his eyes. "Can I come in?" He asked.

"Just give me a moment." Sherlock said shutting the door on Mycroft. Sherlock rushed upstairs and looked to John. "He wants to come in and have a word," Sherlock paused.

"Alright, and?"

"Well he will find out about this you know?" Sherlock gestured between the two of us. "So I thought I would warn you ahead of time." John set down his tea.

"Right, well… okay." John sat up tying his dressing gown tighter. Sherlock returned to the front door and opened it with a fake smile.

"Ready," He said, the smile quickly fading to an annoyed look. "Make it quick, I was busy."

"No you weren't." Mycroft muttered behind him as they walked back up the stairs. Mycroft followed his brother upstairs, a dull expression on his face. As he entered the room he smiled at John, rather falsely, as he took a place in the armchair. Sherlock sat beside John and placed a hand on his leg. He stared at his brother waiting for an explanation. Mycroft's eyebrow rose as he saw Sherlock's hand move to John's leg. He quickly brushed the thought aside.

"Sherlock," he began. "You need to inform the police of your false death." He spoke firmly.

"Why would I need to do that? The last time I was alive they wanted to arrest me, who's to say they won't do that again?" Sherlock gave his brother an inquisitive look.

"Because you simply can't hide for the rest of your life." Mycroft explained. "You are going to have to tell them at some point. The sooner the better." He crossed his legs.

"And what exactly should I tell them? Again, I'd rather not be taken away after just getting back brother, I do have things here I wish to attend to…" He said smirking and giving John's leg a quick squeeze; Mycroft's plain expression soon transformed into a frown.

"Excuse me?" He asked, wondering why Sherlock was being so strange around John. Sherlock rolled his eyes. How much more obvious could he make this?

"Really Mycroft, have you let your intellect go that much that you merely do not observe any more?" Sherlock mocked.

"Why?" He asked intently. He lowered his voice. "You and John?" He gulped; Sherlock had never been in a relationship. If this were the first, it would simply never work out. They worked together; could Sherlock not see this? Sherlock turned to John.

"Of course," He smiled. He kissed John's forehead. "I'm quite enjoying this new experience, how about you John?" Sherlock smirked. John forced a smile, he was happy with Sherlock yet down right scared of how his brother would react.

"Yes," He couldn't make eye contact with Mycroft. "I am." Sherlock looked back over to Mycroft a grin on his lips. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow to his brother, curious as to how he would reply.

"This…" Mycroft began, not knowing himself how to respond. "Is not…" He stammered getting his sentence straight. "Right," Sherlock frowned, disappointed.

"Oh come now brother, you're not going to go on and tell me how it is immoral for two men to be together are you…"

"No I am not. But the fact that you work together, and the station trusts you not to get into any bother…" He sighed. "They wont allow this."

"You forget Mycroft that the station does not pay me, I'm not under their employment therefore they have no say in the matter. Also since when have I ever allowed something to be a distraction while working on the case?" He could see his brother was worried but he still couldn't understand why.

"I understand that. But this may be a serious distraction." Mycroft sternly spoke as John's hand intertwined with his brother's. "I am not here to make decisions for you, just be careful." He warned, his eyes fixated on Sherlock's.

"No such thing as a serious distraction," Sherlock insisted. "I'm sure John and I are capable of staying very professional while working with the Yard." He looked over to John. "Yes?" He asked. John nodded quickly, agreeing.

"Yes, we will." For the first time he looked up at Mycroft who was eyeing him closely. "Honestly." He smiled.

"And if it is all right with John, and I mean this in no way to be offensive, I think we will keep our relationship private. They do not need to know and I think it would be better if most didn't." Sherlock added. "We wouldn't want someone using John against me." John blushed.

"Yes, we will; for the time now at least. It would be suitable." He agreed. Sherlock looked back to his brother and smiled.

"Now I ask again, how exactly should I talk to the police without being arrested. From my perspective I don't have a lot of options."

"I don't know Sherlock. You got yourself into this, get yourself out." He sighed, uncrossing his legs to stand up.

"So you just come over here, demand I tell the police I'm alive and then you leave without a suggestion? Why should I? I'm content not having them know. It's you who apparently wants me to go public!" Sherlock demanded. Mycroft looked tiredly over towards his brother.

"Okay, fine. If you are content with them not knowing, don't tell them. They will figure it out soon enough though."

"Then what was the point of this visit Mycroft?" Sherlock asked standing to meet his brother's gaze.

"To see," He met Sherlock's gaze. "To see how you are," He widened his eyes. "And to give you my personal opinion on the matter. But if someone sees you Sherlock, people will talk, and report." Sherlock said nothing just watched as his brother left the room. As soon as he heard the door shut he sat back down on the couch and let out a loud growl.

"Does Mycroft not understand how irritating he is?!" Sherlock said looking to John. John smiled sympathetically.

"I think he does, actually." He pecked Sherlock on the cheek. "It will all work out fine, don't worry." John reassured him. Sherlock gave a faint smile, resting his hand on John's.

"He's right though, as much as I hate to say it." Sherlock sighed. John leaned backwards into the couch.

"He is," He sighed, frustrated.

"I'm just not entirely sure how to go about this, I don't want to lose you," Sherlock said turning to press his forehead to John's.

"You'll never lose me." John leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips.

"You know what I mean, they will surely arrest me," Sherlock looked into John's eyes.

"Don't worry about this Sherlock," He comforted. "I don't think they will arrest you though," John stared back. "They think you're dead. They're not going to arrest you if they find out you're alive. Even if they try, I won't let them." Sherlock pursed his lips and nodded. He repositioned himself on the couch, his head on John's lap.

"They might think I'm dead, but that doesn't stop them from rekindling old suspicions. We have to find someone we trust, who will listen and help." Sherlock said his hands in a steeple beneath his chin. John moved his right hand to run it through Sherlock's dark hair.

"Lestrade?" He asked, biting his lip with concern for Sherlock.

"Mhmm," Sherlock nodded very slightly, closing his eyes. He loved the feeling of John's hand through his hair; it was very comforting. "That could work." his deep voice vibrating through his chest.

"He trusts you, and needs you." John said. "So yes, it might but let's think this through a little more before saying anything. We have to figure out how we will tell him."

"We how would you suggest we do this?" John sat and thought for a moment. He wouldn't want to go down to the station and talk to him or do it over the phone. Both ways would be suspicious or risk other's knowing about the situation.

"We could invite him over?" John said looking down. Sherlock sat straight up.

"Brilliant!" He said looking around. "We invite him here, you talk to him first and then I will come in later. But you must first ask a favor of him and ask for his trust! I'm sure he will do it for you!" John nodded taking this in.

"Alright, so dinner tonight?" Sherlock looked back to John.

"Yes," He said grabbing John's phone and handing it to him. Please call him; I'm going to talk to Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock took off downstairs. John sighed and dialed Lestrade's number.

"Hello, Lestrade?"

"John?"

"Yes,"

"H-hello, yes. How are you? I haven't heard from you in three years."

"Good, actually. But I do have a favor."

"Of course, what is it?"

"Would you come over for dinner tonight to discuss it? I'd rather not say over the phone."

"Um, sure, what time? Around 6?"

"That should work perfectly."

"Alright, I will be there, and John?"

"Yes?"

"It's good to hear from you." John agreed and then hung up the call. Sherlock was still downstairs so John just walked into the bedroom and started to change. He heard the door behind him open and he quickly turned around covering himself with the sheet. Sherlock stood in the doorway a smirk on his lips.

"Good god Sherlock you scared me!" John sighed.

"Going somewhere?" Sherlock deducted. John never got dressed before noon unless he was headed somewhere.

"Yes, we need food if we are going to have dinner tonight." John said pulling on his trousers and a jumper. Sherlock nodded.

"Right, I will come with." John turned around shocked. Sherlock never went to get food with him.

"I'm sorry, I'd love to have you with but you can't come Sherlock." The detective gave him a confused stare. "Someone is bound to recognize you." Sherlock then nodded. He then dashed to the closet pulling out an outfit that John had never seen before. Sherlock quickly got dressed and turned around.

"Look different?" Sherlock said, his hands on his waist. He was wearing dark blue jeans, a white shirt and a grey jumper that was open in the front. He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and messed his hair up. He looked amazing and John could feel his face turning red. "I'm assuming by your silence and the blush on your cheeks that I do." John nodded still unable to speak. John finally got his thoughts under control and cleared his throat.

"We are still going to want to stay away from major areas, so we will have to go to a smaller market." John stated.

"Good idea," Sherlock said walking out of the room. Sherlock in casual clothes still had John in a tizzy. They had gone shopping and returned home carrying in the food together. John liked the experience and hoped this wasn't the last time Sherlock went with him. As Sherlock put the food away John started to think about what he wanted to make. They had a couple hours but he liked to be prepared. He settled on a simple pasta dish with a couple sides.

Lestrade had been shocked, that was to say the least; Sherlock coming out of nowhere like he hadn't died. He had actually passed out at one point and Sherlock was glad John was a doctor and could help. After he regained consciousness they slowly explained everything that had happened. Greg listened very carefully, only nodding at times so Sherlock still knew he was listening.

"Well I had no doubt that you were innocent, Sherlock," Lestrade started after a few moments had gone by. "But I didn't realized you had pissed the criminal off this much that you had to fake your own death," He joked, smiling. The boys just stared at Lestrade. "Well, don't worry. I will take all this evidence, do a bit of snooping myself in the databases and pull it out like I had been working on it for the past three years. Then we will call a conference for the press and that's when Sherlock will come in. I will make sure no one will interfere." He said standing. "You have my word." Sherlock stood up from where he was leaning over the couch.

"Thank you Lestrade. I knew I could trust you." He said holding his hand out. Lestrade took it and pulled him in for a hug. Sherlock was surprised but went along.

"It's just good to have you back Sherlock. I never thought I would say it, but we missed you." He said as he pulled back, smiling at the detective. Sherlock straightened his shirt and smiled back.

"It's good to be back," He added.

"So we can count on this happening tomorrow? The next day? Sometime soon?" John asked cleaning up the teacups.

"I will take this information to the station tomorrow and do some research. Then I will present it to my crew by the end of the day. So we should be able to call the conference the day after. John smiled to Lestrade.

"Thanks," Lestrade nodded.

"Are you ready?" John said finishing the buttons on Sherlock's shirt. "It's your big return from the dead, Lestrade has it all arranged." John said smiling up at his detective. Sherlock gave a small sigh, studying John's face. Sherlock gave a nod, kissing John's cheek and squeezing his hand.

"Yes," John was nervous and excited all at the same time.

"Try not to talk much about your 'death'," John said wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist. "Answer the questions but be careful what you say, remember you are trying to win them back after what Moriarty did." Sherlock frowned and groaned.

"They're all idiots. I don't want to answer the questions." He winced. "I supposed I'll have to though or they'll still think I'm a fake." He grabbed his coat and scarf and slipped them on. John snorted.

"Sherlock just try and behave please." John grabbed his wrist. "For me…" John looked him in the eyes. "Please," Sherlock smiled gently and kissed him on the lips, puling back.

"Your tricks don't work on me, John Watson." He murmured. Tapping his nose. "Come on, let's just get to the yard and have this done with."

"Someday they will," John mumbled. He followed Sherlock out to the can and slipped in beside him. He watched as the streets passed them by. "I mean it though," He thought he'd throw in for good measure. "Behave or else," John gave him a naughty grin, giving him a quick kiss. The detective grinned, pressing a kiss to John's jaw.

"Will you be punishing me? Because I'll only misbehave if so," He chuckled, leaning his cheek on the doctor's shoulder.

"Possibly, but not the kind you like," John chuckled. "Quite the opposite actually, I'll stop all further activities for a while…" John gave Sherlock's hand a squeeze. Sherlock pulled away with a frown.

"That's not fair, I can barely help myself and my rude comments!" He muttered, folding his arms and pouting teasingly.

"Well, we will see how much you can help yourself when you know what is at stake Mr. Holmes." John said kissing Sherlock's cheek. "And enough pouting… it doesn't flatter you," He laughed. Sherlock pulled back his lower lip and smiled, leaning against him.

"Can't wait to see the reactions. Donovan's will be priceless. I don't even think Anderson will look, though. He'll faint."

"It will be nice to finally prove them wrong. You have no idea how much I've wanted to beat the snot out of the both of them for the past three years."

"You sound like a bullying schoolboy," Sherlock murmured, looking up again and kissing him. He ran his fingers through his short blonde-grey hair. "Thanks you thought. Means a lot." Sherlock paused. "I love you," John thought he had heard wrong. He looked down at the detective to make clear of what had just been said. It surprised him a little but after a moment he responded.

"I love you too," He loved hearing those words from Sherlock. After another moment he added. "I really do want to see their faces though, it will feel amazing!" John smiled. Sherlock laughed and laced his arms around John's waist, kissing his neck.

"I know, I can't wait either." The cab stopped abruptly after a few moments and Sherlock pulled back with a pink flush. He looked around, thankful no one they knew was outside. Clearing his throat, he paid the cabbie without eye contact and held the door for john.

"Thank you Mr. Holmes." John said stepping out of the cab. "Now let's hurry to Lestrade before anyone sees us. Don't want to ruin the surprise." John winked quickly grabbing Sherlock's arse. Sherlock jumped and flushed a deeper shade, slapping John's hand.

"Cheeky, bastard," He muttered. "Now I'll be coming in all bothered and red." He huffed and dragged John by the arm swiftly to the back of the building, then pulled out his phone and text Lestrade of their arrival. He leaned against the brick wall.

"Got to remind you of your incentive to behave somehow." John laughed. "Although, you do look cute all red and bothered, maybe I'll try and tease you up a bit more before you go out," John threatened.

"Don't you dare," He muttered darkly as the D.I. poked his head out of the door.

"Oh, finally. Hi guys. Come on in. Quick in my office." He gestured and disappeared behind a door, and Sherlock grabbed John's sleeve and dragged him after. John shut the door behind them making sure no one had seen or followed them.

"So what exactly is the plan Lestrade?" John asked. "How are you planning on presenting the information so the crowd believes Sherlock was innocent?"

"Well there's already been collective evidence about the thing as a whole, John. They know Sherlock's innocent – the only thing they don't know is that he's alive." He mumbled, his voice low. "I've set up a meeting for the Yard, in conference room D over there. They should all be there now, but they're expecting me to introduce an expert in reading people, cue this guy." Greg said with a smile, pointing his thumb at Sherlock.

"Alright, so Sherlock come in on cue, what about me? Do I just sit in the audience, up at the front? With you two?" John asked looking to both of them.

"You are going to sit in the audience, I've told them you requested to be present seeing as you were closely involved with the case." Greg added, he then clapped his hands and rubbed them. "Well, let's get to it then. And John, be prepared in case someone faints." He gave a small smile and opened up the door from the office and stepped out. Sherlock stayed in the office and watched as John and Lestrade left. John slipped into the conference room, Greg right behind him. He took a seat next to Donovan and Anderson just to make sure he had a good view for when Sherlock walked in.

"Should have known you would be here," Donovan said quietly. "You always had defended the freak. Bet your waiting to hear that your boyfriend was innocent." John looked to her but didn't say anything. He didn't have to, it would all be said in just a few moments.

"Alright, so the case facts have already been gone over, and I'm sure you all know why were are here." Lestrade started. "Does anyone have any questions before we bring in our expert?"

"Yeah, who is this expert? You haven't told anyone." Anderson questioned.

"Oh shut your trap," John muttered under his breath. Anderson shot him a dirty glare before looking back up at Lestrade.

"You don't need to know his name, you will find out when he comes in." Lestrade sighed. "Alright, I'll go and grab him." Lestrade walked out of the room. John sat back, his arms folded across his chest, a sly grin on his lips as he stared at Anderson and Donovan.

"What are you smirking at?" Donovan sneered.

"I just want a good view," John said.

"The expert is coming through the door over there," She said mockingly. John knew where the door was.

"I said I wanted a good view, I didn't say that I wanted to see the expert." Donovan was about to ask another question when Lestrade walked back through the door.

"Everyone, I present your expert." He held his hand out. John knew Sherlock had walked into the room when both Donovan and Anderson's jaw's dropped. He chuckled silently as he watched them stare in awe.

"You knew?" She turned to John stuttering. John nodded barley holding back a loud laugh. She looked back up front. The faces in the room were all similar, all staring in disbelief. Sherlock took a seat up front with Lestrade, the look on his face very focused.

"Now, Sherlock here will explain everything that happened and take questions at the end." John hadn't actually heard how Sherlock had done what he did and he was amazed at the great precautions and details that were included in Sherlock's story. Of course when questions came Donovan's hand was up first. She muttered something stupid and redundant and Sherlock quickly shut her down. By the end of the conference John could tell his detective was ready to get out. Lestrade stood and ended it, allowing John and Sherlock to leave first. They stood outside of the Yard, facing one another.

"That actually went better than I thought it would have," John said looking to Sherlock. Sherlock nodded.

"Did you see their faces?" Sherlock smirked. John told him that he specifically sat next to the two so he had front row seats. Sherlock chuckled. Just then Donovan came walking up.

"Just because the Detective Inspector thinks you are innocent doesn't make you any less of a freak," She said, anger in her eyes.

"Oh piss off, you are just mad cause you were wrong." John said grabbing Sherlock's hand and walking away. Sherlock hailed a cab a smile on his face. John took one look back at the seething Donovan and smiled. He gave her a sarcastic wave as he got into the cab. It was silent only for a moment till Sherlock spoke up.

"So, I behaved…" He smiled looking forward.

"Yes, you did," John said surprised. Sherlock looked down at him with a devious grin. John rolled his eyes and smiled. "Alright," he chuckled. He knew what would happen when they got back to the flat.


End file.
